Thou knowest the commandments Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honour thy father and thy mother.
A rich ruler has just asked what he must do to inherit eternal life. The Lord answers with a list of commandments the man already knows. The reply raises the question the whole scene turns on: why point a man to the law when what he lacks is life?
The ruler framed his question around doing, and the Lord took him at his word. One commentator ties the reply to the principle behind it — that wages earned are not a gift:
His mind swung back to the works of the law, not knowing what Paul tells us in Romans 4:4, "Now to the one who works, his wages are not counted as a gift but as his due." Since he came on this basis, the Lord pointed him to the law about his duty to his neighbour. The man claimed he had kept it since he was young. So the Lord tested him further about his relation to Himself. "Come, follow Me." Who is this Me? That was the supreme question, on which everything hinged, whether for the ruler or for ourselves.
That answer fits what the law was made for — and what it was never made to do.
The law does not assume that a sinner is ruined, and it does not offer salvation. It can only speak to man's ability, if he has any. It speaks to people who assume that man can do what God asks. So on God's side it is a command for what is owed to Him. He can only ask that much if they take such a ground with Him. The law is the measure of duty God sets before a man who thinks he is able to keep it.
The Lord names adultery, killing, stealing, false witness and honouring parents. Kelly points out what all five have in common.
Here we have, of course, a summary of the ethical code as it deals with man, and that alone.
Why could the Lord say he already knew them, and how does Mark's account compare?
The Lord pointed him to the sacred Word, a sign that on such a vital matter God had not left His people in ignorance. "You know the commandments," He said, for the questioner was a ruler. He then referred to five of them, though not in their regular order. In Matthew and Luke these are the fifth to the ninth. Mark alone adds a reference in substance to the tenth.
The five commands are only one part of the law. Wolston weighs the ruler against the rest of it.
There are two tables of the law. The first comes down to this: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind." The other table is, "You shall love your neighbour as yourself." Had he loved his neighbour as himself? He had not committed adultery. He had not murdered, stolen, given false evidence, or cheated anyone. He had honoured his father and his mother. He was a most admirable man. But did he love his neighbour as himself? Certainly not. Why? Because he was wealthy. If he had loved his neighbour as himself, he could not have been wealthy.
He asked for eternal life. The commandments were never the place to collect it.
Here was the young man's mistake. He had come to Jesus to know what he must do to inherit eternal life. By the law righteousness could never come, nor life either. There was no person ever able to keep the commandments. In his own estimation the young man had kept them. But he forgot that the question was not what he himself thought and saw. The important question was what God saw, and God saw that he had failed.
Two tests met the ruler here. Only one of them reached him.
The Lord brings in the commandments of the second table, but they left his conscience untouched: "All these I have kept from my youth." The ruler was satisfied with himself and yet unsatisfied. He knew he did not have eternal life, and he had no solid security for the future. To him Jesus said, "One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me." The conscience which had resisted the test of law fell at the first touch of Jesus.
The verdict on this respectable man is blunt.
The young man, this ruler, this likeable and admirable man, turns out to have a heart as far from heaven and God as the heart of the worst and most corrupt sinner on earth.
- Ground. He asked what to do, so the Lord answered on doing — the law speaks to people who assume they are able.
- Scope. The five commandments quoted cover duty to other people only. Only Mark's account reaches the tenth.
- Standard. Behind the five stands "love your neighbour as yourself" — and a very rich man had not kept it.
- Shortfall. The law could give him neither righteousness nor life. His verdict on himself was not God's verdict.
- Sequel. Verse 20 left his conscience calm; the call to follow Christ broke it open in a sentence.
And he said, All these things have I kept from my youth.
A rich ruler has asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus lists commandments about how he treats other people, and the man answers at once. He has kept them all since he was young. His claim raises two questions. Was he telling the truth? And if he was, why did he walk away without what he came for?
Commentators do not treat his reply as a lie. The Lord never says he failed. One writer weighs what that obedience was worth.
We must notice that the law never tested this young man's heart at all. As far as anyone could see, and in front of others, he had kept it. No doubt it was only an outward obedience. But he had still given that outward obedience. As a creature of God it was beautiful, and the Lord Jesus Christ valued it as such. He had obeyed the law in an outward way, and this gave him the credit of having walked in its rules. The Lord does not say he failed to do it. He looked at him and loved him. There was something there that God could love.
The list Jesus gave him was selective, and what was left out matters as much as what was named.
When the rich young ruler came to the Lord with his question about eternal life, Jesus tested him with five of the ten commandments. He did not quote the first four, which deal with what is due to God, and He did not mention the tenth. The young man could say he had kept the five the Lord mentioned. No doubt he had, if only the forbidden acts were in question. Had he been tested by the tenth, he would have been hopelessly condemned.
He had matched the wording of each command. The wording, though, was never the whole of it.
He knew the letter of these commands, and he had obeyed them to the letter. But the spirit of them — their real, living, moral meaning — reached much further. Carried through to the end, they affected more than outward conduct. They touched the springs of the heart. They said, "You shall not steal" — but they meant, "You shall love."
The commandments left his conscience undisturbed. Something else did not.
The Lord brings in the commandments of the second table, but his conscience was untouched: "All these I have kept from my youth." Then Jesus said to this self-satisfied yet dissatisfied ruler, "One thing is lacking to you yet." The man knew he did not have eternal life. He had no solid security for the future. The conscience that had survived the test of law collapsed at the first touch of Jesus.
He judged his own life and gave himself a pass.
Here was the young man's mistake. He had come to Jesus to know what he must do to inherit eternal life. Righteousness could never come by the law, and neither could life. No one was ever able to keep the commandments. The young man, by his own estimate, had kept them, but he forgot that the question was not what he himself thought and saw. The important question was what God saw, and God saw that he had failed.
One commandment was never put to him, and it was the first of them all.
Even the law required that God be loved with all the heart. Did the ruler love God like that? Did he recognise God in the lowly Jesus? Sadly, he did not. He might claim to have kept commandments about his neighbour. He broke down completely when it came to the first of all the commandments. In his eyes his riches were worth more than Jesus.
In Matthew's account he adds a question of his own to this same answer. One writer answers it.
He himself, aware that something was missing, puts the question, "What do I still lack?" I will tell you what he lacked. He lacked the real knowledge of Christ; and, my friend, if you do not have Christ, no matter how beautiful and moral your life may be, you lack everything.
- Kept — truly. His claim was honest, and the Lord neither denied it nor despised it; He looked at him and loved him.
- Kept — partly. Five commandments were quoted, not ten. The four about God and the one about coveting were never put to him.
- Kept — outwardly. He obeyed the letter, but the commandments reach to the springs of the heart: "do not steal" means "love".
- Kept — by his own reckoning. The question was never what he thought he saw in himself, but what God saw, and God saw failure.
- Kept — and still lacking. A conscience that survived the law collapsed at one word from Jesus. He valued his riches above Christ.
And when Jesus had heard this, he said to him, One thing is lacking to thee yet Sell all that thou hast and distribute to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in the heavens, and come, follow me.
A rich ruler who had kept the commandments since childhood asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. The answer named one lack, set a price on it, and ended with an invitation — and the invitation, not the price, is what broke him.
The Lord does not hand him a list. He names a single gap.
This young man believed a person could do some good thing. He saw in Christ everything excellent, all the good there could be in a creature — for he did not go beyond what he saw in Him outwardly. He did not see that He was the Christ of God... So the Lord takes him on his own ground, and says, "One thing you still lack." But to lack that one thing was to lack everything — it was to lack all that anyone could imagine.
What was missing was not another moral achievement but a person.
"One thing you still lack." And what was lacking? Attachment to Himself. You have not attached yourself to Me, and there are certain things in the road which hinder you from doing so... Riches are clearly obstacles in the road of blessing.
The demand sounds arbitrary until you set it beside the claim the man had just made about himself.
People ask, how could the Lord make that the condition of eternal life for him? But the law had already required the very thing that would have made this easy — that he should love his neighbour as himself. And he had declared that he did. Why not, then, sell what he had and give to the poor? If he loved his neighbour as himself, would giving to that neighbour cost him more than giving it back to himself?
The man's question assumed eternal life could be earned by doing. Commentators say the Lord's words are not a price for salvation but a test, spoken with real affection.
Clearly the Lord is only searching out a heart that badly needed it. He does not make it a condition of eternal life; for that is a gift which He Himself had come to get for us. He speaks to the young man according to the character he claimed for himself. And He adds a tender assurance of a heart open to him — a heart ready to give him a place among His followers and close friends. "Jesus, looking at him, loved him," says Mark in connection with these very words.
Selling and giving could be handled as a transaction. The closing words changed that, because they asked what he thought of the One who spoke them.
So the Lord put this man's profession to the test with those words. He put the test, as it were, this way: What do you think of Me? I have come down from heaven; I was rich, but for your sake I became poor... will you follow Me? Will you be on My side? You will have much to put up with. Do you think I am worth following? Do you think I am worth giving up everything you have in this world? Do you consider Me greater riches than all your possessions?
The treasure on offer was not a distant reward. It was a present one, kept where it could not be lost — and Luke gives us a man who took it.
The Lord offered him treasure in heaven for the present, and also a path of reproach in following Him. It was a present treasure, but in heaven, where it could not be lost. The riches that held his heart and separated him from the Lord would soon be gone forever. In Luke 19 we see another rich man, Zacchaeus, who gained treasure in heaven. About his present possessions he could say, "the half of my goods I give to the poor."
The test did more than expose a weak spot. It named what had really been ruling him.
The Lord did not get into an argument with him about his past claimed obedience. He tested him another way — as to his devotedness to Himself. What was Christ to him?... Coming to the Lord with the apparent desire to get eternal life, he left Him sorrowful... There was something he loved better than God, or than Christ. In this way it came out into the open. He had an idol, which perhaps he had not been conscious of before.
- Lack. He was not short of morality; he was short of Christ. To lack that one thing is to lack everything.
- Law. "Sell all" was no extra rule. It was the honest cost of the command he claimed to keep: love your neighbour as yourself.
- Gift. Selling does not buy eternal life. It is a gift, and Christ spoke these words as One who loved him.
- Follow. The sting was in the last clause. The question was never about money but about worth: is Christ greater riches than everything you own?
- Treasure. Christ offered him treasure in heaven that could never be lost, in exchange for riches that would soon be gone. He kept the riches that were leaving.
But when he heard this he became very sorrowful, for he was very rich.
Luke gives one line to the moment a promising seeker turned away. The Lord's request touched his wealth, and it left him sad. Commentators ask what that sadness shows about his heart, his money, and real repentance.
The Lord did not argue with the ruler's claim to have kept the commandments. He tested him another way.
He tested him in another way — as to his devotedness to Himself. What was Christ to him? Was the man's heart right with God? Could he give up everything he had in the world for Christ's sake? A searching, testing question! For that the young ruler was not prepared. "He became," as we should translate it, "exceedingly sorrowful, for he was very rich." He came to the Lord seeming to want eternal life. He left Him sorrowful, as both Matthew and Mark record. There was something that he loved better than God, or than Christ. This is how it came out into the open. He had an idol, and he may never have been aware of it before.
The commandments left his conscience untouched. One sentence from Jesus undid him.
"One thing you still lack," said Jesus to the ruler. The man was pleased with himself and still not satisfied. He knew he did not have eternal life, and he had no solid security for the future. "Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me." The conscience that had resisted the test of law fell at the first touch of Jesus.
What Jesus asked of him was far less than Jesus Himself had already given up.
To the ruler it was overwhelming, impossible — the wiping out of everything he valued. For now it was clear that he loved his riches, his money, his wealth. He had never suspected this in himself before, but it had been there all along. It came to light in the presence of the One who uncovered it — the One who, though He was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, so that we through His poverty might become rich (2 Cor. 8:9). The ruler valued his position and his property, and could not bear to have nothing and be nothing.
Being upset in front of Jesus proves nothing on its own. One writer sets the ruler beside King Herod, who also felt sorrow that led nowhere.
Herod was a man of extreme but shallow feeling… We also read that he was sorry, "exceedingly sorry," when he saw what a cruel act he had bound himself to. The rich young ruler was sorry too when he refused the call of Jesus. But in neither man did the sorrow produce repentance (Luke 18:23; 2 Cor. 7:8, 10).
The command to sell everything was not an odd demand. It tested whether he truly loved his neighbour as himself.
If he really loved his neighbour as himself he would have to do that. If he had £5,000 he would have to give someone else £2,500. Then he would give half of what was left to someone else, and so on until it was all gone. You say he would very soon have nothing left. Just so, but there is the principle. And the Lord tells him to make short work of it: "And come, follow Me." What happened? "But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich" (Luke 18:18, 20-23). He loved his money more than eternal life or his neighbour. Everybody gets tested in that way.
Commentators differ on how it ended. One notes that Scripture never places him near Christ again:
Of all the different people who came into contact with our Lord during His time on earth, none, perhaps, has a sadder ending than this rich young ruler. There was so much at the start of his story that promised a bright future as a disciple of Christ. Yet in the end we read that he "went away grieved." As far as Scripture records, he is never found again in the company of Christ and His own. So even if he was a believer at heart, he missed the blessing of Christ's company among His people, and he failed as a witness for Christ in the world.
Another writer says why the Lord spoke this way, and leaves the ending open:
The Lord knew his riches were a hindrance, and that is why He spoke as He did. Whether or not the ruler later turned to the Lord we do not know. But he had been given enough to make him search his own heart seriously.
- Tested. The Lord's word was a test of devotedness to Himself, not a debate about the man's record.
- Exposed. The test uncovered an idol he had never suspected in himself: he loved his riches more than God.
- Untouched by law. His conscience survived the commandments but collapsed at the first touch of Jesus.
- Sorry, not changed. Like Herod, he felt real grief and still refused. Sorrow that stops short of repentance changes nothing.
- Costly. He kept his money and lost the company of Christ. How his story ended, Scripture does not say.